It’s a day off — finished my work week well and feeling strong, if tired. But because I get up at 4:30am on work days, it’s hard for me to sleep past 9am on days off, and that’s if I really, really try. So Lala’s still sleeping the sleep of the justified rocker, and I’ve been tidying and puttering, backing up the computer, things like that. Don’t you feel good when you back stuff up? You do if you’re like me, and only do it every six months or so….. (Of course, everything I write is stored online in two or three different (secure) places.)
Boy, that’s boring talk. Let’s have fun talk! Digit talk! (If you’re new, saga begins here.)
Th cat of my heart, continues to do well. VERY well. He’s still gaining weight — when I pet him I can still feel his backbone, but every day the padding gets a little thicker. He bitches and moans, all the time, which is just what he loves to do.
The front sun-porch, a spot that we use for some storage but where I also set up a nice writing spot, is now his space when he needs to be alone. He eats out there, he has a litter box, and the nicest thing is that we can leave the inner door open and just keep the iron security door closed, so he can sit by it and feel like he’s outside. The room is all windows, and he has many high perches from which he can view not only the street, but look into the living room to see how the kittens are behaving.
More and more, though, after he eats, he howls to be let into the house, even though the kittens plague him to death. They simply don’t understand that passing tails, especially THAT twitching, angry tail, are not to be played with. So Digit WHAPS them, and they skitter (skitten?) off, but they have memories shorter than mine, and minutes later they’re all like TAIL! MUST GET THAT TAIL! However, he tolerates them. He’ll sit next to them. He’ll ignore them. I never expected them to do this well. He won’t ever, ever speak to them unless it’s a growl, but he can share a lap with them. If they’re not near his tail.
Speaking of that tail, I really think he has much less feeling in it now (which would make sense, seeing as how much of his back end was seriously damaged…). That would explain his balance, how he appears a little off balance all the time, and how Waylon managed to hold it down that one time without him noticing and how, the other night while I was having a bath, HE DRAPED IT IN THE TUB and didn’t seem to care.
A little in.
That tail, however, is still a good indicator of geological happenings. Last week I woke up to Digit growling furiously and whipping his tail back and forth across my face. Lala, still not in bed, could hear him from another room. Ten seconds later, a small earthquake, centered in Oakland, rippled through the room. It was a 3.2, and for those of you not familiar, a low 3 like that just feels like a big dog jumped up on your bed. A low 4 feels like more like an earthquake, but a 3-point-something just makes you go, huh? And Digit apparently HATES the sound of them coming.
And just look at that tail’s magnificence:
And when all is said and done, my sweet chickens, it looks like we will have about a THOUSAND DOLLARS to donate to Milo Foundation and Best Friends. I’m not sending it quite yet — I’m taking your excellent advice to wait until he’s all better, well and truly, but is that amazing or what? I’m still not over it, and I never will be. I love you all every day, and I pet his head and tell Digit so.
Sunday mornings make me sappy.
So I will close on this note. See that box up there? Behind Digit? I’ve been meaning to tell you about that. (This is the point, dear reader, when you should click away if you don’t have a cat and are offended by litter talk. We cat lovers LURVE our litter box talk.)
I read about this idea here, Ikea hacks for cat boxes. And it was seriously SO easy. See, we have a small (read: big) problem with Clara and cat poop. She sees nothing wrong with diving for the good stuff. I want to die every time she does it. We have to keep the big litter box in the kitchen — no room in the bathroom, and I hated seeing it there, and Clara LOVED having it there. So I had to do something.
This is a box from Ikea called Hol — there are two, this is the bigger one. You put it together and then you saw a small hole, just big enough for your cats to jump through. I used a tile-cutting saw just big enough to fit through the small holes (it was easy, I swear — I’m not a saw kind of gal). It’s big enough to place a large litter box into and still have room for litter/scooper/bag storage. And while Clara’s head fits in the hole, her shoulders don’t, and she can’t reach! Hahahaha!
Yes, that’s a gigantor Rubbermaid, not a litter box. Digit has issues and pees standing up. No litter box on the market is high enough for him — I use this, and when I started using this ikea box, I just cut a little away on the side so they can jump in. And yes, that’s Trader Joe’s pine litter. Wouldn’t use anything else.
So there you go!
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